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2014.03.11 - Building The Barricade
HeroMux - Monday, March 10, 2014, 11:26 PM Old Gotham is that part of the city that disturbs good Gothamites the worst. It is the spiritual core of the malaise that assaults every alley and street of the fair noctropolis, decay and despair coursing in regular pulses like the spreading of disease from an infected wound. It disturbs them because they fear that this may not be the past of the city, but its future as well. Charred theaters and abandoned buildings seem to suggest that civilization is only a temporary accident and that, at the end of all things, entropy will have its say. It's a violent part of town, and it is about to get more violent as a pair of yellow-green eyes look on the street below, at a cadre of thugs traveling in the shadows and closing up to a couple who is walking hurriedly along the street, nervous but blisfully unaware of the full danger that is coming upon them. Gotham definitely isn't the Iceman's usual hangout but he's in town on a mission. He's looking for someone in town but that doesn't mean he's going to pass up people in need of help. On one of his ice slides, Iceman is following after the thugs as silently as he can. Of course he hasn't spotted the yellow-green eyes, too busy planning some quips. High above, the glowing green shape of a one-time Gotham native cruises the skies. Decades before, the Green Lantern patrolled these skies. He became scarce long ago, but every now and then he returned to the city that was once his. Now, he has surrendered that name to others, calling himself Sentinel, but despite having joined the ranks of a new generation of heroes, he returns now and again to his home turf. Batman probably wouldn't like it. Batman will have to deal. As Sentinel observes the streets, he picks up on movement in an area where no law-abiding citizen should be foolish enough to roam late at night. He descends, cautious, to see what transpires below. They seem more than just mere thugs. They look hungry and their movements are predatory. This particular group is comprised entirely of males, and they are not quite bold enough yet to come out of the shadows. That is, until the couple decides to turn into an alleyway. They were probably nervous and counted the streets wrong, because the alleyway that would connect them to the slightly safer side of Gotham is two alleys further down. This one? This one is a dead end. And about to become literally one. The young men turn around quickly, and that's when their hunters finally come into the light. The Cheshire cat crouching upon the rooftop has seen enough. He stands up and stretches a little, eyes narrowed. Following the group into the alley, Iceman comes to a stop. Still not aware that he's not the only one on scene, Iceman chills the air. He points his hands down at the ground and starts producing an ice slick to try to trip up the thugs. Sentinel drops lower, keeping from view as much as a flying, glowing person can. He extends a hand, readying his will, but as yet it's hard to be sure exactly who the good guys and bad guys are--the ice guy looks legit, but the others are a harder call--and Sentinel's level-headed enough to keep from leaping blindly into the fray. But he certainly makes ready to, if the need arises. The aparent leader of the pack steps forward just as the two young men take another step back, only to find cold brick at their backs. There is a confusion of pleading and threats, but ultimately they fall away when the leader grins, and the glamour keeping his appearance falls off. They truly are jackals. The humanoid jackal in street clothes shows its teeth just as his brethren advance. Their body language is clear, the intention stated: Feeding time. A whistling sound stops the leader in its tracks for a moment, ears twitch and head rolls back to look at the sky, the direction of the sound. And so it is that the leader is the first one to get a direct hit from a falling body. A body clad in black and silver and, seemingly, purple. Vorpal's dive from the rooftop may have seemed suicidal until the very last moment, where a small trapeze appeared in midair, glowing and purple, to change his trajectory as he clung to it. The jackal leader received the swoop of a boot, spraying blood rather spectacularly and knocking the jackal down to the floor. Iceman scowls as the threats are made and the jackals are revealed. "I wish I could say you don't see that every day but..." Iceman trails off to himself. He's about to step in and make himself know when the Vorpal Missile is launched. He stares at the violent display before letting out a whistle. "Dude, Vorpal!" he calls, launching a frigid blast at one of the jackals. Once the glamour falls, that decides things for Sentinel. He drops suddenly and plainly into view, glowing with all the verdigris of a Christmas tree, and snaps his wrist at the nearest jackal. A glowing green lasso materializes in his hand, the loop of it whipping towards the would-be predator to ensnare him in its coils. "You boys look like you picked a lousy night to play tough," he declares. No point in dwelling on the whole idea of hunting, is there? Really, that's just disgusting. Looking to the other heroes, he calls out, "Let's round 'em up. Nice and easy!" Bobby gets a brusque nod from Vorpal but no holler back. The cat proceeds to dismiss the trapeze and instead a purple sledgehammer appears in his hands as a jackal leaps for him. The sickening sound of broken bones fills the air as the feline swings the hammer at his assailant's legs, causing it to howl in pain. Out of the shadows, another jackal leaps out at Iceman just as the man's glacial blast immobilizes one of them. The lassoed villain tries to struggle against the Sentinel's construct lasso, but soon it becomes clear that it is impossible to escape. Which is why the remaining predators rush towards the Sentinel at once, recognizing the threat that a green lantern poses! Iceman works to pin the jackal to the wall with ice. Of course the howl of pain disatracts him and he looks over. When he sees what Keith is doing, Bobby'd eyes widen. "Hey! Vorpal! Cool it, m-" he ends up cut off, tackled off his slide due to being distracted. Keeping above the jackals, Sentinel raises his other hand and creates a giant glowing green shield to block their access to him. "Catboy! Quit playing Mafia enforcer and help Frosty out! I'll hold these punks at bay." The lasso gives a flip, tossing the grappled jackal (say that five times fast) back at his packmates. "You boys sure picked a lousy place to hunt. Don't tell me--fracking venture flushed you out of your natural habitat?" The sledgehammer flies, impacting the Jackal as it stands up in an attempt to gouge at Bobby's side with its claws. It lets out a yipe and is sent rolling away. The sledgehammer vanishes. "Iceman, are you alright?" Vorpal asks as two escrima sticks, glowing and purple, appear in his hands. This is a bit of a radical change from the Cheshire's preference for whimsical weapons. And the very violent way in which he employs his weapons is a dramatic shift as well. The Sentinel's toss is a beautifully-executed strike, sending the jackals sprawling. By where Vorpal stands, the jackal with the broken legs tries to right itself and swipes at the cat's leg. Successful contact, as the black spandex is torn to reveal purple fur underneath, and blood. Vorpal snarls and delivers a swift kick to the jackal's face accompanied by a one-two from the escrima sticks. When the jackal is on the ground, the cat's foot presses against the back of the neck to keep it down. "How are you lot doing?" Iceman doesn't seem bothered by the gouging. It's just ice being scraped away after all. "Bad puppy! Stop scratching the Iceman or no milk-" and then sledgehammer. "-bone for you..." he trails off. Frowning deeply, Bobby gets to his feet. The scratches and gouges are already filling back in with new ice. "Am -I- alright? Dude you're the one who's gone all- look out!" too late. He cringes when Vorpal is cut and again when the cat strikes back. Reaching out, he tries to pull Vorpal back from stepping on the jackal. "Vorpal, ease up. You've got him already!" When the jackals go down, Sentinel's shield abruptly shifts form, becoming a glowing green net that descends upon them, beginning to constrict in an effort to gather them up and hold them fast. "Might have things wrapped up here in a sec," he calls back to Vorpal. "And if you don't mind a bit of friendly advice, listen to your friend, there, and tone down the brutality, son." Vorpal dispels the escrima sticks as he is pulled away. "Careful, it bites." Looking towards the two scared young men, the cheshire thumbs at them. "It's alright, just stay there. We'll take care of the rest and then we'll get you someone to escort you home." His demeanor is patently different, softer, with the civilians, but it hardens back when he looks at the jackals. "A good man toned it down recently. All it got him was killed," the Cheshire says, his voice dripping icicles. It was no secret, of course, Tony Stark's death had been all across the newspapers and television all day long. "Let's get these--" And then there's a whimper coming from the jackal on the ground. The cat narrows his eyes and kneels next to it, giving it a hard stare. The Jackal slowly lifts its head and returns it. "...I want you to understand that the mercy you've received is that you're still alive." His voice remains as it was- hard and steely. The glamour, that did not come from them, that was given to them by someone else. "Which is more than you were going to grant these two men." And I give frostbite, I'm not worried," Iceman replies. He watches Vorpal with concern and ends up looking away at the icy remark. "Vorp..." he trails off. He tenses when Keith kneels down. "Hey," he says, scowling. "Get up. You and me need to talk," he says to Vorpal, glancing to Sentinel to see what he has to say. Sentinel's net catches up the crooks, lifting them up in a bundle and hovering over so the others can be tossed in as needed. "Kid," he says in a tone with an edge of its own, "Don't turn the sacrifice of a good man into an excuse to be a bad one. I'll skip the speech about being better than these guys, since I know your type doesn't care to listen--so I'll just spell it out. You go feral, you go down--same as them." He glances to Iceman, giving an approving nod, and parcels up the remaining jackal thugs in his net. "'Scuse me a sec. I'm gonna go hang these punks up for the cavalry." Vorpal growls at Sentinel's warning, and turns to face Iceman. "What. is. it?" He speaks with barely-contained rage, it's evident in his eyes and in the way his neck tenses. Iceman gives Sentinel a little 'really?' look at the comment about 'your type' but lets it go. "Don't forget to smack them with a newspaper," he jokes despite his serious expression. The rage from Keith doesn't faze the icy mutant, Bobby staring. "Unless you caught a major case of bat-cooties, something is very wrong. I know you're hurting but you need to tone it down on the violence before you do something you'll regret. Now you're going to calm down, we're gonna walk those two guys home, and then you and me are hitting a case or two of beer, got it?" "I don't drink while I'm on duty," Vorpal says flatly. "And I'd appreciate them if you walked them home. I have to call the BSA and file a report." Bat-cooties. He'd find it funny. Remembering his encounter with the bat at a warehouse, he did nothing tonight that Batman didn't do to the thugs they encountered then. They're alive, aren't they? "After they get here and take them away, I've got to continue my route." "Yeah well you're off duty now," Iceman says, the air chilling some more. "With how you're acting now, it's time you took the night off." "You don't decide my shifts, Bobby," Vorpal says in a quiet voice, so the Sentinel doesn't hear the name. "I am -fine-." "Not sure that's the best idea--Vorpal, is it?" Sentinel returns, having deposited the jackals where they're sure to be picked up. "And... sorry, Frosty, but I don't think you're in the BSA database." He folds his arms across his chest. "I think your friend's got the right idea, Vorpal. You're on edge, putting it lightly, and I don't even know you." He nods to Iceman again. "Your friend's smart. You should listen to him. I'll keep an eye on things around Gotham tonight. Batman might not like my kind of help, but he'll get over it. You two should talk. Work through your problems, whatever they are." He pauses, then unfolds his arms, and sighs. "And look kid, name's Sentinel. I'm in the BSA directory. I've been in the business a while. You got problems, you let me know. I'll help you sort 'em. But this--" he nods to where the jackals were a moment ago. "This won't fly. Period." "Keith," Bobby speaks just as quietly. "You're not acting anything like yourself and I just saw you go Mortal Kombat on those guys. It's time to pack it in for the night and cool off," he's getting an idea though. When Sentinel returns, Bobby cringes slightly. "Man, I ditched the frosty look when I was seventeen. Name's Iceman and you won't find me in that database. I'm one of the X-men," he says, trying to sound more cheerful but not quite getting there. "Batman doesn't like anything," he remarks idly. "I am fine!" The voice echoes through the alleyway and the streets, augmented by the power of illusion, and distorted. Vorpal takes a step back. "I am fine, and the two of you lay off my goddamned case!" He turns on his heel and starts walking, and right into a wall. And up the wall. He normally does an outright levitation up the wall, but stomping -up- the side of a building gives him more territory upon which to stomp and make his displeasure evident. Sentinel extends a hand, creating a horizontal brick wall of green energy across the building's side, right in front of Vorpal's path. "Kid," he says in a low but quite clear tone, "Here's the thing. You've got a chance right now to talk this out with a friend who's got your best interests at heart. You outta take that choice. 'Cause otherwise, next time, I'll turn you in so quick your fur's gonna curl." Iceman doesn't seem to buy it. "Vorpal, I know damn well you aren't fine. I saw the news too and I know what happened," he says. Sentinel's display and speech make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. He's pretty sure that's just going to make things worse. "I do not wish to talk." A bright purple wrecking ball construct appears out of thin air and swings towards the green wall. "You're not bringing me in for anything. Broken bones happen. Maybe next time they'll decide to go eat a goddamned burger instead of attacking two innoce-- FU..." Something happens and the wrecking ball seems to explode into pure energy before it even hits the green wall. But that's nothing compared to the fact that he falls several feet in the air before teleporting and righting himself up to land on his feet. There is no amount of 'I meant to do that' possible that would work, so he decides to ignore that that ever happened as he dusts off his uniform, standing on the ground. Sentinel dispels the wall, stepping forward a little, and peers more closely at Vorpal. "You look pretty twisted up over things, kid. You mentioned Tony Stark, right?" He turns his head, and a glowing green hand extends, shooting away down the mouth of the alley, only to return a moment later bearing a somewhat rumpled copy of the evening edition of the Daily Planet, featuring the headline: "Tony 'Iron Man' Stark: Avenger Killed in Action." Sentinel asks, "You mean this guy? Died a hero? Doing what was RIGHT?" He dispels the construct, plucking the paper from the air, and then tosses it down right in front of Vorpal. "I knew Tony Stark. You know him, too? You think he'd want you to handle things like THIS?" The sudden cat-fail from Vorpal gets Iceman jumping. He reflexively creates a soft cushion of snow for Keith to land in, frowning even more as his friend stands. He falls quiet as Sentinel gets his lecture on again. "I knew Tony too," he eventually says. "And I doubt he'd be okay with this." "How would *I* know what he would say?" the cat hisses. Of course, Bobby wouldn't know Keith was an Avenger just yet. Probably at some point, when some media item mentioned the roster, his name would be appended here or there as an afterthought. His 'brand' wasn't recognizable, as Lia Briggs would say. To hell with Lia Briggs, he thought. "Tony died when he showed a monster mercy. Mercy that it did not deserve. And what came of it? Earth lost several heroes, I lost two friends... and the monster who took them away gets to live to come back another day and take more away from us!" He touches his cheek. Wet. This isn't good. "And that was right? Superman talked Tony into sparing a monster who has killed millions. Who -will- kill millions. What was right would have been to plunge the weapon into the heart of that darkness and banish it forever." The Cheshire rubs at his face furiously, and pushes past. "I'm going home. Don't follow me!" Sentinel makes no move to impede Vorpal, but he looks after him, shaking his head. "Think it over, Vorpal. Think good and hard. I'd hate to have to go John Wayne on you, but--" He cuts, off, sighing, and looks to Iceman. "He's not even going to know who Glen Campbell was, is he? And Matt Damon wouldn't make any damned sense." He reaches up, rubbing his jaw, and then shakes his head. "Keep an eye on your friend. And call me if he gets out of hand. I'd rather he didn't get anyone hurt--including himself--by kicking around all wrong-headed like Errol Flynn on a bender." "Don't worry, I can handle it if something bad happens," Iceman says to Sentinel. "Thanks for the hand. And sorry to bail...but..." he trails off, taking to one of his slides. "I'm going after him," he says, sliding after Vorpal to make sure he stays out of trouble. Category:Log